Doing The World A Favour
by Festus Flare
Summary: When Mikan woke up from despair, she was forced to confront everything she had done in its name. And she knew. There was only one way for her to make up for all her sins, to finally bring hope back to the world after taking so much of it away. [DR3 Spoilers]


"What have I done...?"

It was something everyone says at one point or another in their lives. When they saw what actions they had taken or what advices they had ignored, and the horrifying results that came with it. It was a question that would test ones morals against their actions, to see just how much humanity they still had in them.

The day Tsumiki Mikan asked herself that question, she was lying in a pile of corpses. Her clothes were covered in the blood of the countless innocents surrounding her. The stench of rotting flesh and dried up blood assaulted her nose, making her puke all over the deceased. Through her tears and screams, she could hear nothing but the sound of win rustling the dead trees outside the building she was inside.

Hastily dragging herself away from the scene, Mikan had run towards the door. A million and one questions were rolling around her mind. However, no one was around to answer her.

When she finally escaped the scene that seemed to come straight out of a horror movie, she was instead met with one from a disaster movie.

The skies burned red and black from the pollution, reflecting the blood that had tainted the seas. She could breathe in nothing but smoke and dust, and each breath stung her lungs more and more. It was as if the very air itself was rejecting her. Even the land was infertile. Nothing even remotely alive could be seen growing for miles and miles.

Everything was dead.

And Mikan knew, it was all her fault.

The memories had quickly come to haunt her, laughing at her. All those people, screaming and begging for mercy as Mikan tortured them, hurt them, used her skills as a nurse to harm instead of heal. She clutched her head and screamed, screamed at the top of her lungs for the scenes to stop. But they wouldn't. Even when she closed her eyes, the scene still looped in her mind like a sadistic playlist of despair.

And the worst part of it, she could actually feel herself being... happy.

Even against her will, Mikan felt pleasure and joy fill her body at these sadistic scenes. She kept telling herself that it was wrong, that she shouldn't feel this way, that only monsters would call all this despair as something wonderful.

Does that mean... she's a monster, too?

She slapped her cheeks and shook her head, trying to stop herself from thinking like that.

Turning back to the building that she had just come out of, she noticed that it was a hospital. How fitting. In her perverted state of mind as an Ultimate Despair, she had turned a place of healing into a place of torture and pain.

She trudged inside, arms shaking as she saw the blood stained halls of the once pristine building. Now that she could focus on it more clearly, she saw just how much damage she had caused. Body parts were hacked off and used to build abominations against nature. Human beings that looked like deformed creatures as a result of her own handiwork. Animals and plants could be seen among the corpses too. Even she didn't want to know what her past self had done with them.

Continuing her journey to the upper floors of the building, Mikan then wondered of her friends. What could have happened to them? She remembered being the one to bring them to their doom, leading them to the room where they were forced to watch Chiaki's execution. She remembered being the one to push Chiaki into the secret room, too. And mentally, she berated herself for it.

It was all her fault.

If only she hadn't gone to check on Ryouta after he had skipped class for several days. If only the Impostor hadn't asked her for help. If only she had never gone to Hope's Peak Academy. If only she had never learned how to become a nurse. If only she was never born.

Everything would have been better if she had never existed.

Was it prideful of her to think that? Was it wrong of her to hate herself for something she had no control over? Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. But in her current state of mind, there was no way anyone would have been able to convince her otherwise.

They were supposed to be a class of hope. And yet, now they were the ones bringing the world to despair.

She reached the highest floor of the building, and the carnage only seemed to get worse. Mutilated body parts no longer looked like humans at this point, and the blood was so thick she nearly slipped on several occasions. The eyes of the dead seemed to always fixate on her, accusing her of the pain they had gone through, of the torture they had endured.

Their screams echoed again and again in Mikan's head. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

The chief physician's office was the last thing she came across, and Mikan had to mentally prepare herself for what she was about to see. It was the worst looking place in the whole building. It was a shrine dedicated to despair itself. Or maybe it was for Enoshima Junko, their ringleader? Crude images of death and destruction were plastered all over the walls, stuck there using the blood of the various corpses littering the small room. Wax candles burned dimly, lighting up the dark room with its illumination. And what lied beyond the candle's light was the chief physician herself, her body mutilated and experimented on so much she was more akin to a sack of meat than a human.

And right by the woman's head was a small scalpel.

Mikan didn't remember putting it there. In fact, Mikan didn't remember killing this person at all. Her memories reminded her that she had used this woman as her own pet, using her as a test subject for whatever new instrument of torture or deadly poison she had concocted. Of course, she had always remembered to keep the woman alive. She was force fed the meat of her own workers and drank their blood, all the while begging for the sweet, sweet release of death.

It looks like she might have taken her fate into her own hands.

Slowly bending down to pick up the item, Mikan inspected it. It was tiny and unassuming, but the deep gash in the woman's neck and the blood dripping on its blade told of another story. The blade itself was rusted and blunt, most probably due to the blood that coated the scalpel for so long. Getting sliced by it was going to be a painful and long endeavour that she would not wish on even her worst enemies.

How fitting it would be to be the item that ends her life.

Looking at the table beside her, she noticed a small piece of paper addressed to her. It was written by one Kamukura Izuru, saying that he had obtained an AI of Junko's consciousness. He was going to use it with something called the New World Program, and soon the 77th Class will all wake up as the fashionista of despair herself. And so, he called them all to Jabberwock Island to finish the plan.

It was despicable.

She was probably going to go, too. If she hadn't woken up when she did, she would have agreed to the plan wholeheartedly and begged for that woman's "love".

She was a monster through and through.

Raising the weapon, Mikan pressed it against her neck. It scraped against her skin, letting thick, horrid blood drip down. It stung, stung almost as bad as the air outside. The rust was starting to seep inside her wound. If she had just left it as is, she would soon probably die of blood poisoning. It was too slow, though. Who knows when her Ultimate Despair self would take over once more? Who knew when she would turn her back on hope once more? She needed to end this as quickly and painfully as possible, so no one will ever get hurt again because of her.

If anything, she's doing the world a favour.

"Please… forgive… me…"


End file.
